


The Rescue

by Porphyrios



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rescue, Slight AU: V Never Met Saul Before Riders On the Storm Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios
Summary: V gets a call from Panam.  Saul has been kidnapped.  V knows Panam, knows she doesn't get along with Saul, but he hasn't met him.  When he goes to save him, he's surprised by the man he meets.  The night after the mission gets interesting, and maybe Saul isn't the only one who needs to be rescued.
Relationships: Saul Bright/Male V
Comments: 17
Kudos: 47





	The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so the conceit of this is that V never met Saul before the Riders On The Storm mission, so he goes in blind, not realizing that Saul is a total snack.

A lot of people say that life has a purpose. Some say that some god somewhere made the world for a reason; others say that there's an order in things, some sort of grand cosmic settlement that happens in the long term. I never saw it. I didn't know much, but one thing I had confidence in was that life was a cruel joke played on anything with enough mind to realize it. 

I wasn't a good man. That was true no matter what meaning you went for, really. I couldn't afford to be anything other than survival-minded; you have to be rich to have but so much honor. I grew up on the streets, but where my chooms all wanted to be big-time gangoons, wanted the money and the joytoys and the swag, I just wanted to be left alone. Being gay didn't help with avoiding the mockery, either. Even so, funny how many of the big men who were so quick to yell _maricón_ and throw bottles on the street with their choombas would come sniffing around when they were alone. Further proof that none of us get what we want, it seems. Now, years later, I'm the one everyone calls when they need a job done. Years of being the butt of everyone's attempts at humor, now suddenly I'm supposed to be the answer to everyone's problems. See what I mean? What a tremendous fuckin' joke, even if I weren't dying from some bullshit chip in my head that already robbed me of my best friend. That was more irony than even I could stand.

So yeah... I had more problems of my own than my mind could process, and in the middle of it Panam Palmer called me for help. That girl drove me nuts. She had been a friend and a pain in my ass ever since Rogue introduced us. Not that I didn't like her; I did, in spite of herself. But goddamn, she was truly her own worst enemy. If there was a bad idea, she was behind it. She even had the hots for me, though I think she thought she was keeping it a secret. Secret my ass, she was obvious as a war-mech, and about twice as oblivious to my hints that I swung the other way. I think being hot as she was had ruined her thinking, somehow; she had that attitude that unfairly attractive people often have, that all she had to do was want something bad enough and the universe would swing itself around to where she got it. Like most ridiculously hot people, fuck if it didn't seem to work for her fairly often, too. As for me, lookswise I get my share of compliments, but I just ain't at that level, and I know it. Glad of it, too; draws too much attention. Quiet and low is my style, but Panam... that girl would go in everywhere she went with a marching band ahead of her if she could just find one. And every time we talked, she bitched about how the Aldecaldo leadership didn't get along with her and she just didn't know why. Mystery for the ages, that one. Speaking of irony.

The main itch in her ass was Saul, who seemed to be the leader and wise elder of their little ragtag band of nomads. I'd only been to the camp once or twice, but it didn't take long to realize that all the other 'Caldos seemed to treat the bad blood between those two as a joke. Even the little kids would come up, razz Panam with some shit about what Saul said about her or something, just to watch her spin in a circle and shoot fire out of her ass. I had never met this Saul character, but he seemed to have better sense than she did from what I heard reported. I always imagined that he was probably some crusty old desert rat, grey haired and dried up like old men get in the desert; old enough that her pretty face and drama were exhausting rather than attractive, but young enough that he still had a shit left to give about everyone else. Hell, even those washed up old soldiers she was friends with called him "the old man". When she came crying to me about Saul being kidnapped by the Raffen Shiv, I figured he was in some serious trouble. Fighting, serious fighting, was a young man's game for the most part. Boxers might be able to crawl in the ring and put on a show in their forties and fifties, but they had better meds and well-enforced rules, neither of which you were likely to find out here in the scrub-end of nowhere. Besides, I wasn't getting anywhere with any of the shit I was trying to do to save my ass, so I figured just in case the god-botherers were right, a few more good deeds might not hurt the balance sheet.

Panam picked me up at Dakota's motel, the usual spot. I didn't want to leave my ride anywhere too wild, and I knew the security at Sunset would be superior to anywhere else out here in the sticks. She threw me in that rolling deathtrap of hers and we beat feet to a fucking fortress out in the middle of nowhere, and I mean _nowhere_. The Shiv were crawling all over the place like maggots in rotting meat, patrols on top of patrols, and now I was beginning to wonder just what the fuck Panam had dragged me into.

"You're _sure_ Saul is in there?" I demanded. "Because if I get in there and it's a bunch of other fuckers you need for something or other, I'm going to be pissed." She had the nerve to look offended, like her pretty little ass wouldn't lie to get someone to do something.

"Yes I'm fucking sure!" She whispered viciously. "Like I would..." I waved my hand to cut her off, pulling out a _tanto_ blade and sighting down it towards the dome light. Edge was still perfect, just what I needed.

"Okay, okay, put a plug in it. Survivors or no?" She looked at me like I had suddenly grown a second head, but I just looked back stone-faced.

"Jesus, V," she sighed, looking away. "You can't just ask things like..." I ignored how shaken she looked. It seemed it was time for Panam to learn a valuable lesson about adulting.

"Listen, Panam," I sighed. "It's time to grow up. You want to be a leader? Then lead. Leading is a lot less about drama and a lot more about making decisions. Hard ones. Now... you knew what my skills were when you called me. Now you need to tell me: am I leaving them alive or dead?" She looked sick, but I wasn't letting her off easy this time. "Dead is easier for me, if you care. But decide. It's on you."

"I..." she stammered, grimacing down at her hands. "Fuck. Fuck!" I waited patiently. Patient as death, which is what I might become. Or just dead; can't ever forget that I might become that too.

"If he told them anything sensitive already, you might want to remove them knowing about it. But you're also killing those men, same as if you were pulling a trigger." She glared at me, trying to make me the problem, but I just smiled back at her. "Decide. Now."

Johnny snickered from inside my head. "Oh, so suddenly you're a hard ass? Make you feel tough, beating up on a girl?" He was sitting, lazed out back on his elbows, omnipresent cigarette in one hand.

"Shut it," I told him. "Critical life lesson in this for her. If Saul doesn't pull through, someone's gonna have to lead the 'Caldos and if she doesn't toughen up, it ain't gonna be her." He snorted, but I could tell by his expression he didn't disagree. Just like that he was gone and Panam was staring at me, jaw tight.

"Fine. No survivors. Just..." she looked lost for a minute, "just save Saul." I nodded, grim-faced. She had made the decision after all; may be hope for this girl yet.

"I'll do my best to fetch the old man out in one piece." I gave a mock-salute, faded back into the darkness and chuckled to myself at her cursing. I knew she was going to try to 'help' me with her sniper rifle, but she was wasting her time. She wouldn't see me. Nobody would, if I wanted to live. I went in like a ghost, pushing myself into that cold place in my mind that I learned as a kid. When you're the skinny kid, the gay kid, the weird kid, you get picked on. A lot. I was never big in body or spirit, no good at the bragging and posing and dominance games that boys were expected to play in Heywood. What I was good at was crazy. I learned to go to a cold place in my mind, an "I don't care" place, where no matter what damage I took to my body, if I could move anything, it would be towards whoever I wanted to hurt. Fighting was about dominance to most of those boys, but they didn't have the killer instinct; once it became clear that I was dangerous and would never, ever back down, they... found ways to avoid putting me in that situation. They could still insult me, particularly in groups, but fight me? Nah, I was safe. That space was still my friend, though, and times like this were where its use was best. 

A little malware took care of the cameras, blinding the only eyes that could see me in the shadows. With that bit of inconvenience taken care of, I stretched my limbs languorously and began my dance. First the outside, then the inside, I passed through the old factory the Shiv had fortified like the whisper-silent hand of Death herself, leaving only bodies in my wake. None of the Shiv even had an expression of surprise, just a second wide mouth across their throats. The snipers were as lost as the few who had sticks or knives; all of them were left in pools of blood, just fragile flesh that had met its end. There was only one problem; no Saul. I looked for hidden rooms, blocked passages, but there was nothing. If I had left anyone alive, I could have asked them, but I would have to be a necromancer to get an answer from this crew. Finally, I found it; a hatch, easily overlooked in the gloom. I passed down into a cellar, barely pausing to bring an end to a bored guard, before I spotted someone sitting on a chair. Saul, I hoped.

When I got to him, I was disappointed. This was no old man; this dude was stunningly handsome. Shoulder length black hair around a model's face, closely trimmed black beard, ripped t-shirt showing off muscles all over (though badly bruised and beaten ones). He'd been worked over by professionals, it seemed, but I was still angry. Where the fuck was Saul? "Get you out in a sec," I said. "Where's the old man?"

"Wh... what old man?" he mumbled, clearly half out of it. Sighing, I hit him with a hypo, adrenaline and nanobots racing through his bloodstream to repair the worst of the damage. "Thanks," he said. He had a voice like whiskey and velvet, but a hot man wasn't what I needed in this particular situation.

"Saul," I said impatiently. "I'm here for the 'Caldos, looking for their leader. Sent me to get some old dude named Saul, where's he being held?" The guy looked at me and had the nerve to laugh.

"I'm Saul," he said with a chuckle that turned into a wet-sounding cough. "You found me."

"Get the fuck out," I replied, irritated. I didn't have time for these games, I needed to collect a fucking senior citizen and bounce before the Shiv brought reinforcements. "You're Saul? _The_ Saul?"

"I don't know how many Sauls you think there are, but yeah... I'm the head of the Aldecaldo clan. Kidnapped by the Shiv. Beat to shit. I'm assuming Mitch sent you, doesn't seem like him not to show you a picture of..." Son of a bitch, this guy was serious. I figured I'd leave it up to Panam; if this wasn't Saul, they had the old boy hidden better than I could find in the time I had. If it was Saul, mission accomplished.

"Okay, Saul, then, I'm V, nice to meet you. We need to bounce quick and quiet. Shiv might show back up at any moment." He looked confused for a moment, but nodded slowly, pointing at the ceiling with his eyes then back.

"There's a whole pile of them up..." he stopped, looked at my face, and nodded after a second. "Guess not. Not any more, eh? Good." He grinned mirthlessly, looking hard and mean, but my god was it a hot expression. "Good."

We crept out through a pipe to meet Panam and drove off, Shiv boiling out of the desert behind us to give chase. We didn't even make it into her van, though, before all my worries were shown to be for naught. The way the dude I rescued and Panam lit into each other as soon as they laid eyes on each other put my mind at rest; yep, this was Saul. It would have been amusing if we hadn't been being chased into a windstorm. They sounded like an old married couple, arguing at the top of their lungs in the middle of a dangerous situation. Charming, in a broken sort of way. Even so, for all her dramatics Panam was a hell of a good driver. She also knew this landscape like the back of her hand for someone who claimed she hadn't been here long, a mystery I kept tripping over and was determined to get answered at some point. Saul sat in the floor of the van as she drove, looking like a porn star after a rough shoot. His wounds and bruises were already healing up nicely, but he stank of fear, adrenaline and sweat. No less that you would expect from someone in that situation, but I knew he was probably desperate for a wash. I would have been. She pulled up at an abandoned homestead like it had been her destination all along. Once we got the lights back on, I went back inside and shook the dust and sand out of my clothes. Saul went off to find out if the bathroom worked... and Panam started hinting at me about being lonely on the sofa. Jesus, girl, give it a rest. Whole city full of guys who would love to scratch that itch, and who does she chase with it? Me. Fuckin' figures. I gave noncommittal answers until she finally got the hint and curled up to take a nap by herself.

I tried to sleep but my mind was still in the lingering traces of battle-mode. The cold place left scars each time. I depended on it, but in the same way that a junkie depends on the stuff that's killing him slowly. He knows it's killing him, he just... needs it. And as long as I did this for a living, I needed my mind to be able to do that. Still... a little company wouldn't go amiss. I went looking for Saul, taking a couple of bandages, some antibiotic surgical gel and another hypostim with me, just in case. I also took some omega-blockers because the last thing I needed tonight was a session with Johnny Smartass.

I found him sitting in the bedroom. He was clean now, long hair still damp, but his face was shadowed and closed. I made sure to make enough noise that it was obvious I was approaching. "Hey," I said softly. "Brought some meds if you need 'em."

He looked up, unsurprised. "Hey." He took the stim, weighed it, finally shot it into himself. "Thanks." He waved off the bandages. "You saved my ass. I appreciate it." That voice was going to be my downfall.

"All in a day's work," I sighed. "Mind if I sit?" He motioned at the floor and I sank down cross-legged, leaning back on the wall. "If I'm in the way, let me know. I just... don't like to be alone after a run like that. Not for a while, at least." He nodded, looking like he was staring off into his own memories.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's like coming up from deep water. You sort of have to decompress in stages," he gave a half-smile. "Least, that's how it is for me. I couldn't do what you did, though. Don't know many who could. I didn't do anything but get my ass definitively kicked, but I could do with some decompression time myself. Appreciate the company." I chuckled bitterly and tried to smile.

"Can't say that sneakin' around and killin' people was the career I dreamed of when I was a kid, but yeah... guess I am fairly good at it." He gave a half-heard laugh, just a brief huff of air that was oddly charming. "Lived in Atlanta for a few years, dated a guy who ran a dojo for _ninjutsu_. Learned all sorts of things from him, always suspected that he had been a trainer for Arasaka or some high-end Japanese folks, but..." I cut my eyes over at Saul to see how he handled my orientation, but his face didn't even twitch. Interesting. "He and I parted ways. Remember him fondly, though, because he taught me a hell of a lot that was useful." He'd taught me a hell of a lot in all ways, but I didn't say that. We certainly weren't having that level of sharing.

Saul and I kept chatting as the night went on. I kept waiting for some indication of his orientation, but he was giving me nothing. The talking was helping me relax, though, and clearly it was doing the same for him. As time went by, the talk got more personal. By now I was laying sprawled out on the floor and he was in the same position on the bed, propped up on one elbow looking down on me. We had broken out the Broseph, and I was feeling a little warm and toasty; I suspected he was in the same boat. "So tell me," I said, determined to flirt a bit more, "what's your most embarrassing memory?" He blinked at me, grinning lazily, and cocked his head.

"Why would you ask that?" He laughed, like it was a joke. "But alright. I guess..." he looked way off, clearly rummaging his memories, "I guess it was... nah." He grinned down at me, eyes saying 'gotcha'. "You go first."

"Motherfucker," I laughed, taking a pull off my beer. "Fine." I could tell Saul thought I wouldn't go through with it, but I knew just the one. "So I had this... best friend. In the world. Jackie. Knew him for, god, ten years. Lived in his house with him and his mom. He was my 'bad idea' guy. You know what I mean," and Saul was nodding, he did know it seemed, "he would come up with these horrible ideas and somehow convince me to do whatever it was. He had a massive boner for the idea of getting into the Afterlife, this big-name club where all the high and mighty of the city's underworld hang out, right? Jackie was a stand-up guy but he was totally obsessed with what he called 'the big time'. He was just a street sammy, a punk with a knack for shooting straight in all kinds of situations and a pile of muscle, and I was kind of the thinker of us two. God I miss that son of a bitch. But I'm gettin' off track. Anyway, one night, we were drinking in Watson, where the Afterlife is, and he got this idea that he was gonna get me to sleep with the bouncer and get us in." Saul's eyebrows were up at this point, and I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. "So Jackie... Jackie fuckin' talks me up, right, tellin' me all this bullshit about how any guy would want me and on and on and fuckin' on... I think in the end I agreed to try just to shut him up. Now, this place is in a basement, right; real fuckin' hole in the wall. Hole in the floor. Whatever." Saul is laughing with me by now and I'm coasting on the memory. This is the first time I've mentioned Jackie since his _ofrenda_ and it's bittersweet as hell. "So I get down the steps and there's this absolutely giant 'borged out motherfucker standing there, slabs of muscle in all directions, chiseled jaw, gorgeous eyes, looks like a fitness model. Dude's name was Emmerick, I'll never forget it. He ain't even acknowledging me standing there; I'm clearly beneath his notice. He couldn't be more out of my league if he were Yorinobu Arasaka, right? So I go up and all sexy-sounding start asking him if I can suck his cock, help him out, tellin' him I bet he's got a huge dick, just talking all sorts of shit because fuck if I knew what to say. I was half-expecting him to just punch me out, but he just stood there quiet and sweating it. He really looked worried."

"Worried?" Saul's disbelief was clearly audible. "You told him you wanted to sleep with him and he got _worried_? Shit really is different in the city," he smirked.

"No, no, but check it... so I'm maybe a minute into my spiel, right? And he hasn't said shit, hasn't reacted other than to give me the hairy eyeball. My fuckin' phone rings. Unknown number. It's his fuckin' _wife_." Saul falls back, laughing openly now. "Turns out Emmerick is married to some big-time netrunner, but she's jealous as fuck, right, her man standing in the door to a nightclub all night has her buggin', so she monitors him. She hacked my phone in less than a minute, and started screaming fit to bust my ears. Told me to get the fuck away from her man, that he wasn't into dudes, he was hers, that she was gonna delete my bank accounts, fry my phone, zap my 'ware, break my legs... she gave me the _whole_ business. I beat feet so fast I left a little dust cloud like in the cartoons. Jackie was chasin' me wondering what the fuck was going on. He thought the dude had dropped some sort of cyberattack on me. I guess he did, if crazy 'runners count as a cyberattack." I finished my beer as Saul laughed himself silly, ending up wiping his eyes.

"Jesus, V, that's... that's fucking hysterical. That might be the best story I've ever heard." Saul started giggling again like a little kid. I think we were officially into the giddy hours of the night. He finally stopped and shook his head, staring at me. "That took some balls, though, I have to say. You got some low-hangers, my man. Respect." I cracked open a second beer, toasted him with it, and took a sip.

"Your turn," I grinned, and he laughed again.

"I can't compete with that story, man. But alright... here's one. So, when I was a kid, long ago..." I scoffed loudly.

"Long ago my fuckin' ass. You're not even ten years older than me." He grinned down at me, looking almost devilish in the dim light.

"I'm the 'old man', remember?" Shit, I should have known that was going to come back and bite me. I rolled my eyes and he laughed at me but continued. "But like I was saying, when I was a kid, I had this mad crush on a dude in the clan." Well, there's that answered. I suddenly took a lot more interest in what was being said. "His name was Bull, because he was hung like one, and because that was all he talked. He was as full of shit as a fertilizer truck but nineteen year old me thought he was the hottest thing walking. Thing is, he had an exhibitionist streak a mile wide. Proud of his big dick, you know the type. As far as I know he had no interest in dudes at all; I think he topped half the single women in camp and more than a few of the married ones on the low-low. Got him run out of camp eventually, but that's a different story." He took a pull off his beer, and I really hoped his eyes were saying what I thought they were. "So back in the old days, the camps had shower cubicles, two heads each with no partitions. One set for men, one for women, running off into purifiers and recyclers. Water's scarce on the road, and so is modesty." I nodded; I'd seen what the nomads went through for water out there. "So I was in the shower and Bull came in. Now, you know what being nineteen is like. I'm sure I had been as subtle as any teenager, he had to know I liked what I saw, so he decided to... put on a show. Didn't look at me, didn't even acknowledge that I was there, just washing everything slow and sexy, getting hard, showing off. I was freaking out because I was too young to know how to react."

"Not sure I'd know how to react now," I said, "other than to grab it and hope for the best." He laughed at that.

"That would have been a problem in camp; no touching without permission, ever. Big thing, that. We have to count on each other in every circumstance, and if people start getting handsy without permission it makes a worse environment for everyone." He looked at me, emphasizing the point, and I thought: oh. I nodded to show I understood, and he went on. "But I was hard as a rock, of course, because here's my crush showing off like a porn star. So... I ran." He stopped and drank his beer, giving that breathy half-chuckle again. "Made it about two rows over before I found what I thought was a private corner. Had my dick in my hand and took care of business in about 30 seconds flat." He smirked at me, noting the change in my expression. "Problem was, it wasn't nearly as private or concealed as I thought. Three old women playing cards had a bird's eye view of the whole thing. Ragged on me for weeks, and it took me forever to not get 'the look' every time one of them walked by." I laughed delightedly at the image. The last of the coldness had leached from my mind now; all that was left was warmth and interest.

"That's probably more embarrassing than mine," I said softly. "At least mine was Jackie's idea."

"What happened to him?" Saul asked, then stopped and got a worried expression. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay, I just..." I waved a hand lazily.

"No, it's cool. He... huh." I stopped, sorting my thoughts. How to explain this without too much unnecessary detail? "He got the two of us a job. Like I said, he was obsessed; thought the job would finally make it big for us, get him and his girlfriend enough money to get married, have a good life, get us a big name, a rep, everything." I stopped, took a drink of Broseph and breathed once, twice. "Instead, it got him killed. Got me in a mess I'm still not out of. He's only been dead for a few months and I... god fuckin' damn, I miss him." I swallowed hard, eyes prickling. Nope, not the emotions I wanted tonight.

When Saul spoke, it was with a compassion I didn't expect. "Sorry to drag that up. I know what it's like. I've lost..." he trailed off for a moment, looked away while I composed myself. "I've lost too many people myself." He looked down at me. "You must be uncomfortable down there, and I'm getting a crick in my neck. Come up here on the bed. I mean, if you want to. Make it easier to talk." I looked up at him, wondering if he meant what I hoped he did. Without a word, I scrambled upright and sat on the other side of the bed, laying down and looking over at him. Now that I was closer to him I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the slight raggedness in his beard where he hadn't been able to trim it for a few days, but he looked amazingly good considering what he had been through. His eyes were such a dark, rich brown they were almost black, and his olive skin was slightly weathered but still fine-pored. He looked like a movie star or a model, not a clan leader. I stared at his lips, then guiltily dragged my eyes back up to meet his gaze. "I was married, for a while." He said calmly, like it was nothing. "His name was Arvind, but everyone called him Harry. He was... he was my whole world. We had almost nine years together. When he died it..." he stopped up, choking up like I had. "It took all the joy out of life. Everything just turned grey, like the world lost its color. So... yeah, I understand. Your Jackie. You said he had a girlfriend. Tell me... did you love him?" He looked at me, through me, and my heart clenched in my chest. I hadn't ever told anyone that. There was a time that even admitting it would have killed me.

"Yeah," I gritted out. "yeah, I did. I loved him more than I ever wanted to admit. But... I would have been happy for him, you know? If he'd married Misty, had a pack of kids, settled down... he'd have made a hell of a dad. He was practically a big kid himself." I felt a tear well up and Saul's fingers caught it on my cheek. I looked over, and he was staring at me with a face that was open and kind and oh my god I wanted him so bad my teeth hurt. "I'm sorry for your loss too, Saul."

"It was three years ago," he said. "I've gotten past it, but... it's been a long, hard road." His hand was still on my cheek, and he pulled it away slowly. "It took me a long time to even imagine being interested in anyone else." He was staring into my eyes. "But occasionally I meet someone that makes me remember what it's like." That deep voice curled around my spine, urging me on, but I didn't want to lead him on.

"Saul..." I figured I owed it to him to be honest. "I can't offer much. I've got more problems than the city dump has trash. But I can offer you tonight and..." Before I could even finish the sentence, he was leaning forward. His lips pressed to mine, that scruffy beard felt like heaven scratching lightly at my face and I was lost. After a moment, we broke apart.

"Don't promise more than that, then," he whispered, kissing his way down my jaw. "Tonight will have to be enough." I finally, finally reached up and tangled my fingers in that gorgeous hair, hauling him in for a deeper kiss. He tasted like beer and bitter spicy goodness, like lightning and sex. I moaned softly, pressing my body against him. The hypos had done their work and he wasn't hurting at all, it seemed, and the bruises and welts had faded so that he was all just smooth olive skin and muscles, tattoos on those strong arms rippling. He rolled over onto me and my legs were around him without me even realizing how it had happened. I felt his fingertips gently tracing my 'ware-lines in my face, running along the edges of my hairline, my jaw, so soft and sweet it made my heart clench in my chest.

"I'm all yours," I murmured. "Been wanting you since I first saw you. Take me." He laughed again with that breathy half-chuckle, a sound that seemed designed to drive me wild.

"I saw you," he kissed my jawline, "come bursting in," his lips slid down my throat, beard scratching at my skin, sucking love bites into my neck, "to that room," his hands pulled my shirt over my head and he was back on me all in one move. "I thought you were an angel," he whispered, pausing to bite and lick at my nipple and making me arch up into him. I was hard as a rock in my jeans and so was he, grinding his crotch into my leg along with that giant silver belt buckle. "You were so gorgeous," he kept licking his way downwards, " _are_ so gorgeous," I felt my pants unsnap and kicked my shoes off, letting him pull them down off me, "but don't tell me you're all mine." I looked down at him where he crouched over me, looking up at me through his thick black lashes. He looked feral, dangerous, like something from a fantasy movie, some wicked woodland creature come to ravish me. "Because you have no idea how much I want." He yanked my briefs down, letting my cock slap against my stomach and leaned in, sniffing along its length before licking from my balls to the tip with a tongue that seemed like it was a foot long. White-hot pleasure shot through me. God yes, this was everything I had wanted and more. He bit at one thigh, then the other, tongued my balls each in turn before moving back up.

He licked around my foreskin, sliding it down and back up around his tongue, making me whine and shiver. Finally he sank down over it, sucking me in earnest, and the sight of my cock vanishing into those beautiful lips was almost more than I could take. I pulled him off by the ears, leaned down, kissed him and tasted my precome in his mouth. "No," I said, making his face show surprise for the first time. "I don't want to come like that. I want you in me." He seemed even more surprised for a second but then grinned, lust and joy competing on his face. I couldn't get over how gorgeous he was. "If I'm going to only have one night with this amazing body, I want it all."

"You'll get it all, baby," he muttered. "All of it." I couldn't wait. Leaning over, I pulled his tattered shirt off his body and admired the slabs of muscle on his pecs, his defined shoulder caps and muscular arms, the trail of hair leading below his belt. Interesting, I thought. Everyone in the city depilates; this would be an exotic experience if he was natural. I leaned over, trailing first the tip of my nose and then my lips through the short, coarse hair on his abdomen. He sighed, almost half a moan, and I liked the feeling. He smelled like soap with an undertone of something primal, not cologne and chemicals like the men I was used to. I wrestled with his belt until he finally opened it for me, and then yanked off his pants and underwear in one movement. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock and twice as thick as average, and I immediately knew two things. One, I was going to have trouble walking tomorrow, and two, that I was going to love every moment of causing that trouble. Sure enough, despite his smooth chest and shoulders he was furry below the waist, hair thick on his legs and pubes. A new experience, I thought, and leaned forward, licking my way through it. His hair was crisp on my tongue and the flesh beneath was familiar enough. When I leaned in and pulled that thick monster into my mouth, he filled me completely. I rolled my eyes up to see his expression and he didn't disappoint. Face clenched, head tilted back in ecstasy, he was breathing heavily through his nose and I could tell from the way his abs were clenching that he was close. I pulled off with a wet popping noise and smiled up at him, biting lightly at his abdominal muscles. "You're... very good at that," he whispered.

"I'm good at a lot of things," I replied, grinning at the look I got in return. "I'm sure you are too." I rolled out of bed quickly, grabbing the antibiotic gel, and then crawled back over him kissing and licking my way along his body as I went. "Show me how good." I got some of the gel on my fingers and started preparing myself. He took some as well, slicking up that imposing cock and stroking it slowly in front of me, showing it off. "Damn," I moaned, "you are so unbelievably hot. Look at that thing," I marveled. He held his hand at the base, making the head swell and showing it off, waving it this way and that. "If that guy in your story could see that in the showers and not be on it, I think it's clear that he wasn't into dudes. And was also fucking stupid to boot." Saul laughed again at my reference to his story before beckoning me closer.

"I'd rather be with you than him anyway," he whispered, positioning me over his cock. "You have no idea how beautiful you are." Beautiful? Wow, I thought, then his broad cockhead breached me and I didn't have any more thoughts for a while. The pressure was strong, stretching and burning, but it was a good burn... so good. He rested his hands on my hips, guiding me but not pushing, as I sank down bit by bit. I watched his face, rapture making him look almost unearthly as I slowly slid down that thick, thick pole. He inched into me in tiny increments and I was amazed at how much control he had. No bucking up into me, despite clearly wanting to; he let me take it on my own terms, at my own speed, with only an occasional whimper or gasp to mark how hard it was to hold still. The coarse hair on his quads scratched pleasantly against my inner thighs as I straddled him; a new but welcome sensation, an unfamiliar twist on something I realized I had missed. By now he was good and seated and I lifted a bit, slid back down, and Saul groaned like I had stabbed him.

"Alright," I said softly. "You've been good and patient. Good boy," he sighed and gave me a look that... wow. I suddenly wished this could be more than a one night stand, if he was going to look at me like that. I guess he _really_ liked being called a good boy. "Now I'm going to let you drive. Can you get us both home?" He grinned and gave a lazy undulating motion of his hips that had me seeing stars, thick cock sliding across my prostate going and coming. He did it again, and again, to the point where I was panting and moaning his name. Mother of god this man could _fuck_. Without warning, he was jackhammering into me from underneath, then just as I got used to the rhythm he switched back to the slow undulations. Back and forth, one to the other and back again until I couldn't even remember my own name. Suddenly the world was spinning around me, like all the alcohol had hit me all at once, but then I realized that I was suddenly on my back and he was half-off the bed, legs folded up around his shoulders. He was bracing his feet against the wall in the tiny bedroom, fucking into me full length over and over again. I thought I was going to die of sheer pleasure. All of a sudden I felt empty and I realized he had pulled all of the way out. I whined at the sensation as he suddenly slid all the way back into me, balls deep in one thrust. Then he did it again. Again. Again. One of his hands crept up to hold my neck, not choking me but just holding me in place and I whined like a dog, wanting nothing more than for him to keep pounding me like this forever. He switched rhythms again, staying inside and just giving short, hard thrusts, rubbing my prostate almost unmercifully, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing me like a musician played an instrument. I had suspected it might be good, but nothing on the level of this; this was the fuck of a lifetime.

All good things come to an end, though. I was in a blissed out haze when he finally started getting a bit erratic. I heard his breath laboring, felt his tension building. Oh yes, I thought. A thousand times yes. He had barely muttered "I'm... I'm really close..." when I grabbed his hips.

"In me," I said. "Deep. All of it." Within seconds he was tensing, and I realized he'd been waiting for permission for a while. He hunched up against me, panting, and I felt him pulsing inside me. So good, I thought. With only a stroke or two, I was coming myself, painting stripes of white across my belly and chest. He whined as my ass was still constricting on him as he was finishing, hypersensitive in the afterglow and I smiled up at him, sweating and happy. "Good boy," I said, just to test my hypothesis, and he smiled at me like the sun coming up.

"You're fucking amazing," he whispered, leaning down to kiss me while he was still buried deep in me. He slipped out as we kissed but I didn't mind the mess. These sheets were ruined anyway, we could deal with them in the morning. "I wish..." he left the sentence unfinished but I heard it, and it stabbed me like a knife.

"I do too," I had to confess. "But..." fuck it. Fuck my life. "Let's get some sleep. Talk about it in the morning." I gave him a lazy grin, a true one, though offered as a distraction. "I'm too fucked out to talk more." He made a humming sound of agreement and cuddled up next to me. I was out before he even stopped moving.

The next morning, things got off to an awkward start as the door flew open early. Panam was talking before she even got it all the way open. "Saul, have you seen..." she stopped, taking in the sight of the two of us in bed together, obviously naked under the thin blanket, both well-fucked and asleep. She stopped, staring, and for the first time in our acquaintance I thought she was actually speechless. "Are you _fucking_ kidding me?" she shouted, and stormed out of the room. Saul wanted to be mad I could tell, but I was too busy laughing.

"And a very dramatic good morning to you too," I grinned, ruining Saul's mad by making him snort with laughter. "I'd... leave her be for a bit. She's been trying to hint to me about being interested for ages, and so I'm sure this is going to be yet another 'oh my god guess what Saul did to me now' thing," I said.

"Jesus, doesn't take you long to figure out what's what," he laughed, then shook his head ruefully. "Very dramatic is right. That girl is fucking exhausting. Heart big as the world, though." I stretched, catching him watching and put on a little show for him since he was.

"Yeah," I said, scratching my balls lazily and smiling at his obvious interest, "she's going to be a good leader one of these days when she calms down. Wish I was going to be here to see it." I hoped that was a gentle enough way to broach the subject, deal with the elephant in the room. Even so, it hurt to see his face closing up.

"Oh... yes, I suppose you have to... get back to the city. Other things to do. I know how it is." I started to leave it there but thought, no, fuck it. He deserves better than that.

"No, it's not like you think. See this chip?" I pointed to the Relic in its slot in my skull. When he nodded, I said "it's killing me. Straight up." He sat down slowly, staring. I figured he ought to know that it wasn't him. At all. "That... run that killed Jackie. He ended up dead right away, I ended up with this thing. It brought me back from being dead once, but it's... erasing my brain. Or some shit. I don't understand it, but... what I do know is that I'm probably not... not going to be around in a few months. So like I said last night, I don't have much to offer." Bitter understanding dawned on Saul's face.

"Oh." He slumped down, taking the news harder than I would have expected, even. "Isn't there... something I, I mean we can do? The Aldecaldos have resources, we can take you to Phoenix or..." I shook my head.

"I'm trying to get help from, well, from a bunch of different places already. If I get it fixed, I'll... I'll let you know. If you want. To know." I trailed off, but he was already speaking.

"I _definitely_ want to know. Immediately. You've always got a place in our camp." He had his 'good leader' face on. I recognized it from war movies. I wasn't expecting it to turn warm though. "You've always got a place in _my_ camp." He smiled ruefully, leaned over, kissed me. "Clear enough?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "God I wish things were different. Last night was... everything. Everything I ever wanted. I just wish..." he held up his hand.

"You offered a night. I took it. I'm offering more. You can take it or not. The place in camp won't go off the table, and I don't think the other will either. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," I said. "And if I get past this... expect to hear me knocking on your door." He smiled, and it was like the sunrise.

"Deal. Maybe I can repay one rescue with another." We kissed again before going out to find Panam. Maybe it would work out after all.


End file.
